


I Hate People

by GMAldamar (orphan_account)



Category: Panic At The Disco, Young Veins
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Cutting, Cynical, Dark, Drug Use, Drunk Sex, F/M, M/M, Masturbation, Multi, POV First Person, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-02
Updated: 2012-05-02
Packaged: 2017-11-04 17:44:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/396473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/GMAldamar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brendon Urie hates people.</p><p>Warning: May cause triggers...I'm not sure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Hate People

I hate people. I hate the very site of them, they way they're always acting like everything in the world is perfect. They always try to fix your problems like it's nothing. I fucking hate people. I only use people to satisfy my physical needs; no emotion, no connections --- I just use them for sex. I hate people so I use them, that's all.

It's Wednesday and I'm lying here in bed, staring at the ceiling. Thinking. Thinking about all of the many times I have tried to off myself. I've tried a total of ten times; all ten were unsuccessful. All ten of my attempts were inflicted by someone else, someone pushing my buttons hard enough that they would making me want to fucking kill myself. I've tried killing myself though; o.ding pills, cutting my wrist, hanging myself, and even tried drowning on purpose at the community pool by my apartment. All of them were failures. Lying here in bed, I can't stop thinking about it. I need to get out of this shitty apartment, go somewhere, fuck someone. Now! 

I sit up on the edge of my creaky, lumpy (piece of shit) bed and pull my cellphone out from my left pocket and check the time. My cellphone screen reads 11:45pm. No one I know would be willing to drive all the way to the middle of the city just to have sex. I gotta go to a bar.

I rise from the edge of my bed and walk over to my closet, pulling my dingy gray tee shirt over my head and tossing it onto the floor by my bed. I don't even bother with changing my jeans. They're clean enough --- I mean, it's a bar, not a five star restaurant. I pull a long sleeved, plain black henley shirt off from the hanger and put it on. I check the time again, it's 11:50pm. I grab my keys and wallet from my nightstand and head for the door. I walk over to the elevator, but with my amazing luck, there's a sign with 'Out Of Order' written on it. The lazy ass landlord it never going to fix it. I take the stairs, all the way down from the very top floor.

This bar is dead. There are maybe about twenty people in here, no one that interest me. I think I spoke too soon. This guy just walked in from the front entrance and I think I've found my number three for this week. He's pretty tall, shaggy brown hair, and from the dim light shining onto his face, he has blue eyes.


End file.
